A living soul-I vowed to die for her:
With the faint voice of one who, having spoken,
Relapses into blessedness, I vowed it :
That solemn vow, a whisper scarcely heard,
A murmur breathed against a lady's ear.
Oh! there is joy above the name of pleasure,
Deep self-possession, an intense repose.
SANDOVAL (with a sarcastic smile).
No other than as eastern sages paint,
The God, who floats upon a Lotos leaf,
Dreams for a thousand ages; then awaking,
Creates a world, and smiling at the bubble,
Relapses into bliss.
Feared as an alien, and too vast for man?
For suddenly, impatient of its silence,
Did Oropeza, starting, grasp my forehead.
I caught her arms; the veins were swelling on them.
Through the dark bower she sent a hollow voice,
Oh! what if all betray me? what if thou?
I swore, and with an inward thought that seemed
The purpose and the substance of my being,
I swore to her, that were she red with guilt,
I would exchange my unblenched state with hers.—
Friend! by that winding passage, to that bower
I now will go all objects there will teach me
Unwavering love, and singleness of heart.
Go, Sandoval! I am prepared to meet her-
Say nothing of me-I myself will seek her-
Nay, leave me, friend! I cannot bear the torment
And keen inquiry of that scanning eye.-
[Earl HENRY retires into the wood.
O Henry! always striv'st thou to be great
By thine own act-yet art thou never great
But by the inspiration of great passion.
The whirl-blast comes, the desert-sands rise up
And shape themselves: from Earth to Heaven they stand,
As though they were the pillars of a temple,
Built by Omnipotence in its own honour!
But the blast pauses, and their shaping spirit
Is fled the mighty columns were but sand,
And lazy snakes trail o'er the level ruins!
WHOM THE AUTHOR HAD KNOWN IN THE DAYS OF HER INNOCENCE.
MYRTLE-LEAF that, ill besped,
Pinest in the gladsome ray,
Soiled beneath the common tread,
Far from thy protecting spray!
When the Patridge o'er the sheaf
Whirred along the yellow vale,
Sad I saw thee, heedless leaf!
Love the dalliance of the gale.
Lightly didst thou, foolish thing!
Heave and flutter to his sighs,
While the flatterer, on his wing,
Wooed and whispered thee to rise.
Gaily from thy mother-stalk
Wert thou danced and wafted high
Soon on this unsheltered walk
Flung to fade, to rot and die.
MAIDEN, that with sullen brow
Sittest behind those virgins gay,
Like a scorched and mildewed bough,
Leafless 'mid the blooms of May!
Him who lured thee and forsook,
Oft I watched with angry gaze,
Fearful saw his pleading look,
Anxious heard his fervid phrase.
Soft the glances of the youth,
Soft his speech, and soft his sigh; But no sound like simple truth,
But no true love in his eye.
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